Set Me Free, Leave Me Be
by After Six
Summary: Morgana is leaving Camelot for good, and Arthur deals with a revelation that may change his life completely.


Camelot lay vast beneath her, spreading all the way toward the horizon. Only the fewest twinkling lights in the distance were still visible. Most others had been extinguished while their owners were deep in sleep. Morgana rested her palms upon the stone balcony overlooking the entire city, wondering how much she would miss it. And more importantly, if they would miss her.

Her dark green thick velvet cloak billowed around her as a breeze flew by, and she felt her heart wrenched painfully at the thought of the decision she had made. It was not, and never going to be an easy one, but ultimately it was the best for everyone involved. She was better off gone; this way she could find her own peace and leave all her grief behind her.

"Morgana?" a voice that she had not expected to hear at all jolted her in surprise. "Is that you?"

She instinctively turned around, then immediately regretted it. There he was; the one person she both wished to see and hoped wouldn't come across tonight. The Prince of Camelot.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" Arthur demanded, and she winced at the lack of concern in his tone. Only slight annoyance, and maybe curiosity. "And why are you dressed like that? I hope you're not planning on sneaking out anywhere."

She remained silent for a moment, pressing her lips as she wondered what best to say to him. Eventually, at his impatient stare, she shook her head and looked away. "What do you care?" she mumbled at last, more to herself than to respond to his question.

"What do you mean, what do I care?" he seemed puzzled. Always so innocent, so oblivious. Morgana fought the urge to shake some sense into him. It wasn't his fault, really, if his feelings were not as she wished them to be.

"I'm leaving," she said dismissively, then quickly walked past him, fully expecting him to stand there and watch her go. Like he always did.

Instead, his hand shot out and caught her arm, forcing her to halt. She looked over her shoulder at him, her blue eyes blazing. "Let me go, Arthur," she said—no, _ordered_.

"I won't, until you tell me what's going on. What do you mean, leaving? Where are you going?"

"Why do you care?" she repeated with more anguish than before. "You've never cared before, so don't start pretending now! Or are you asking in behalf of your father? In which case, tell him I'm sorry, but I can't be in Camelot anymore. Don't worry, I already left him a letter in my chamber—someone will find it in the morning. Now, let. Me. Go."

She saw a flicker of frustration in Arthur's eyes and felt a moment of triumph. His grip on her arm only tightened, and for a moment she wondered if he was going to strike her. Instead, he grabbed both of her shoulders and pushed her to the wall behind them, his eyes suddenly filled with fire. "What is going on, Morgana? I swear I won't move until you tell me everything. Where are you going? Why? What do you mean you can't be in Camelot anymore?" His voice had started rising, and she could feel the tension escalating between them. She was actually starting to get scared of him, which was something she never felt before.

And yet, she refused to back down. "Why do you want to know?" she asked back stubbornly, staring at him defiantly.

He punched the wall beside her so unexpectedly and so forcefully that it made her jump. "Because!" he snapped, seeming more frustrated with himself than with her now. "Damn it, Morgana. Because you can't just leave."

"And why is that? Last I checked I'm not a prisoner here. And I don't have any responsibilities. It's not me who's going to be ruler of Camelot someday. All of these are already good enough reasons for why I _could_ leave if I wanted to."

"Why would you _want_ to leave?"

Was that pain she heard in his voice? No, she had to be hearing only what she wanted to hear. "Why would I want to _stay_?" she responded calmly. "I have things… secrets… that you don't know about and probably never will, Arthur. For starters, remember when I was supposedly kidnapped? That story isn't entirely true. I left completely on my own accord."

"You what! Why would you do that!"

"Maybe because Camelot doesn't feel like home anymore!" she blurted out. "Maybe… I felt more welcome and accepted among those Druids than I did surrounded by the splendor of this palace. You would never understand it, because this is _your_ home. This is where you belong. But not me." She took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm not happy here anymore, Arthur."

"Why? What does Camelot not have? You have everything in this palace. What do you need to make you happy?"

"It's not as simple as that. The things I desire aren't material things. And they cannot be forced to be given, either." She shook her head tiredly. "Like I said, you'd never understand. Look, please just let me go."

"I…" he was stammering. Something else she had never seen before. "I can't. My father will be devastated."

Morgana burst into a laugh, surprising even herself. It was not one filled with mirth, though, only bitterness. "Your father, right. You need not worry about him, Arthur, he's a strong man. He will get over his grief. I really have to go now."

She tried to break free from his arms, but he was too strong. He had come a long way from their harmless sparring sessions in which she beat him more often than not. As she looked into those eyes she realized he was really not that young, playful, arrogant boy anymore. He also wasn't her childhood friend or her brother.

And that boiled down to one simple truth: She didn't know who Arthur Pendragon was anymore.

"Don't leave," he muttered, and for a second she thought she saw something else in his eyes. But then it quickly disappeared, just like the other occasions when she thought she saw it. Just her imagination, as always. What she longed to find so much, she'd started imagining them. "Think about it some more. Give me… another day. And if you still feel the same tomorrow night…" his sentence trailed off.

Morgana looked at him, completely confused now. "You're just saying that so you can tell everyone tomorrow that I'm leaving and stop me."

"Then why am I not doing that now? Why wait?"

She searched his gaze with puzzlement. For once, she could not understand him. "I don't know. Why?"

He shook his head and pulled his arms at last. "I just don't think you have thought this through. How soon did you make this decision, huh, Morgana? Have you thought about how many people will miss you? Are you really that selfish to just abandon them all?"

_Them_. Not us.

"Like who?" she challenged.

"Beside Uther? Oh, I don't know, Gwen, your best friend, maybe?"

She visibly flinched at the name. "She'll have you," she whispered, and with morbid satisfaction noticed the shock flashing in his expression. "I think you should stop fighting on behalf of everyone else, Arthur. They don't even know I'm gone yet. If you're worried you'll have to live with the burden of letting me go and inadvertently causing their grief, then I'm sorry for that, but I'm sure you'll get over it someday."

"Just give it a day, alright?" he insisted.

She looked at him for a long moment and shrugged. "Fine. If it pleases you." She began to turn back toward her chamber when he called out to her once again.

"Morgana?" She only half turned, looking at him over her shoulder. "What did you mean before, that I don't care? That I'm only pretending?"

"I think we both know what it means."

"No, I don't. I care about you, you know that."

"No, you don't," she replied calmly, matter-of-factly. "Not anymore, anyway. You didn't care when I was supposedly kidnapped. You didn't care when another group of people _tried_ to actually kidnap me. You didn't care when I emerged from the forest in my _underclothes_, having just escaped said kidnappers. In fact, if I recall correctly, your first words when you saw me that day was, 'Where's Gwen?'"

She watched almost apathetically as Arthur's jaw went slack with surprise. He opened his mouth, but no words came. And yet she felt no triumph this time. Just sadness, utter sadness. "Good night, Arthur," she said, then continued on her way, not looking back.

And for the first time since she could remember it, Arthur Pendragon didn't get the last word in.

* * *

"Gwen, can I ask you a personal question?" Morgana asked the next morning, as she gazed out her window toward the already bustling city below her. A sight that she hadn't expected to see again so soon. For some reason, she let herself relent to Arthur's wish. Even if he still broke her heart. Maybe it was her being foolish and hoping for something that could never be again, but if it was, then it would definitely be the last day anyway. She could bear that.

"Of course, My Lady," came Gwen's reply from the bed that she was tidying up.

"Are you in love with Arthur?"

A stunned silence. Morgana let five seconds tick by, before turning to see her friend. Gwen's back was facing her, and she was standing stiffly, frozen in mid-movement.

"My Lady, I don't know why you would—"

"You can be honest with me, Gwen, you know that. We're friends, right?" Morgana gave her an encouraging smile.

Gwen turned slowly, regret, guilt, and embarrassment in her expression. "I… suppose I was. But I knew the whole time that it was beyond stupid and impossible, so…"

Morgana frowned. "What do you mean, 'was'? Are you not still in love with him?"

"Well… there's this… um… since I realized nothing was ever going to happen, I might've fallen for someone else. Someone who had… slightly better chances."

"Who?" Morgana's heart suddenly started pounding. This was unexpected. She wasn't sure why this was happening when she was so ready to leave all this behind. She had already imagined Arthur and Gwen's wedding in the far future, once he became King, and how far from here she would be by that time. She had thought this was a future set in stone, and that was why she had to be gone…

"Lancelot," Gwen said softly, and as Morgana stared at her, she could see her cheeks were now rosy-colored and her smile showed just how much those feelings were affecting her.

"Oh, Gwen!" she stood up abruptly, caught between a smile and a shocked expression. "You never told me!" Part of her was reacting as a delighted friend, another part of her was being inexplicably happy for an entirely different reason.

"I didn't think my feelings were of much importance to you."

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course I would like to know about them. In fact, we really should've talked about this more often," she added, her mood suddenly turning somber again. _Indeed, then you would've known we shared the same feelings for the same man…_

"Well, since we are already on the topic… If I may be so bold, My Lady, how about you?"

"What about me?" Suddenly her skin felt unreasonably warm.

"Any gorgeous knight you have your eyes on?"

Morgana looked at Gwen's hopeful expression, and struggled to find the courage to admit her own feelings, even if they mirrored Gwen's own once upon a time. Would this create a rift between them? Was Gwen better off not knowing? As the doubts chased each other inside her mind, she took another look at her friend and realized those fears were ridiculous. This was Guinevere, her closest friend in the whole world. There was no way she would be upset by what she wanted so badly to tell her. To tell _someone_.

"I'm afraid I… oh, this is silly…" Well, voicing it out loud clearly wasn't going to be a simple matter. Having been fumbling with her nightgown's belt, she looked up and saw Gwen's patient smile. And suddenly, she spoke it without thinking twice, "It's Arthur. Oh, Gwen, you're not mad, are you?"

Gwen's expression changed for the briefest of seconds—all Morgana had time to see was surprise—but then she gave her a knowing look. "Don't be silly, why would I be mad? And besides, I've sort of always suspected."

"You have?" Morgana asked in horror. "But…"

"I was never sure," Gwen added quickly. "And now I feel bad because I have stood in your way."

"What! No, you haven't," Morgana denied at once, wondering how it'd gone from her being scared that Gwen would be upset with her to Gwen feeling guilty toward _her_. And even as she wondered this, she realized her words weren't entirely truthful.

And Gwen could see it too. "Yes, I have. It is because of me that he never looked at you."

"Don't flatter yourself," Morgana said with a playful tone, trying to keep the conversation light and failing miserably. "He has never looked at me before, with you in the way or not. And anyway, you were only acting on your feelings. No one can blame you for that. I was the coward one who never did anything about mine."

"My Lady, do not be so hard on yourself!" Gwen was by her side in an instant, surprising her. "And you're wrong. He _has_ looked at you. In the party after that tournament long ago, when you walked into the room… you should've seen the way he looked at you. He _wanted_ to be your champion. When you were dying, he was the one who insisted on calling that man who said he had a remedy to cure all ills—"

"You mean the one who put me in that state in the first place?"

"Well, he didn't know _that_. His intention was to save your life."

"So he cares about me when it comes to life and death situations. That's just part of his job as the Prince toward the King's ward. And lately, he doesn't even care that much anymore."

"That's all my fault!" Gwen said regretfully. "He just thinks he wants me, because we spent one night together and connected. But you and him… you've been together much longer. You've grown up together. You have so much more history. And that's also partly why he's so used to having you around, he doesn't know how to view you as more than someone who's always been there. He's taking you for granted, the fool."

Morgana smiled and shook her head slowly. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm leaving."

* * *

"She already told you?" Arthur asked incredulously, and Gwen gestured at him to lower his voice.

"She has. And she's not changing her mind."

"Do you know why she's doing this?"

"She told me she's not happy here anymore. That she needs to find another place she could call home."

Arthur sighed in exasperation. "That's what she told me too. Have you tried talking her out of it?"

"Of course. But at this rate, sire, I genuinely believe there's only one person who could stop her. And only for the right reason."

"Who? What? Guinevere, if you know something more, you have to tell me."

Gwen looked at Arthur with the faintest hint of a smile. "That's as much as I can tell you, sire. I think you already know the answer if you look hard enough."

And she turned and left, ignoring Arthur's desperate calls, sincerely wishing he wasn't as daft as he seemed.

* * *

When Morgana made it all the way out of the castle that night, she was fairly certain last night was going to be the last time Arthur saw her. He wasn't even going to say goodbye. Clearly, her little speech last night had made him realize that she was right after all, and he did not care. So maybe, as one last act of kindness, he'd decided to let her go. Feeling completely foolish and hurt, she wiped away her tears angrily and quickened her pace, wanting to get out of Camelot as soon as possible. The sooner she left this place behind, the sooner she could start mending her heart.

She was stupid for listening to his wish and waiting another day just to let him break her hopes all over again. Well, that was a mistake she was never going to make again in the rest of her life.

Right after she slipped past a side gate into the city, she turned a corner and immediately came face to face with Arthur. Surprised beyond measure, she let out a shriek, and he quickly clamped one hand over her mouth. "Sshh!" he hissed, looking around to check if any guard was coming. After hearing nothing for ten full seconds, he let her go. "What did you do that for?"

"What are you standing out here for?" she demanded back, her heart still hammering in her chest.

"What do you think? I was just going to let you walk out of here without a word?"

"So you're saying goodbye, is that it? Well, okay, goodbye, then." She stepped around him and tried to get past, but he quickly stepped in front of her again. Morgana sighed, really wishing he would go away for once. "Arthur, what else do you want? You asked for a day and I already gave you that. I'm not changing my mind. You said if my feelings were still the same tonight you're going to let me go."

"Technically, I never said that."

She stared at him in bewilderment, until she realized he was right. He had trailed off yesterday, not completing his sentence after 'if you still feel the same tomorrow night'. What a cheat! Wanting to wipe that triumphant smirk off his face, she kicked his leg as hard as possible. He yelled in pain and bent down to cradle his leg, and she used the opportunity to get away from him.

"Morgana, wait!" He called from behind, his pain quickly forgotten as he saw her running away. Within seconds he'd caught up with her and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to face him. When he saw her face, he was surprised to see the tears glistening in her beautiful blue eyes. "Morgana, what…? You're crying." He wiped a tear gently from her cheek, but she brushed him off harshly.

"Thank you for stating the obvious. Can't you see that you're torturing me?" she cried desperately, abandoning all that was left of her dignity. She just wanted the pain to end. "Can't you just let me go? If you care the slightest bit for me, Arthur, please just let me go."

"Well, the problem is, I care a lot more than that, Morgana," he said almost casually, gazing deeply into her eyes. She merely looked back uncomprehendingly, not daring to let herself wish for something she knew she'd only be disappointed by again. He leaned closer to her and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes with a frustrated groan. "I care about you so much I just can't let you go. Is that selfish?"

"Awfully, yes," she answered, still not understanding where he was going with this conversation.

"Don't you see? I've been so blinded. I've been stupid. I've been pushing you away… when all I wanted was to be with you."

Morgana stepped back, shaking her head violently. "No. That is not true. Did someone put you up to this? Was it Gwen?"

"No! She wouldn't tell me anything. But what you said last night… you were right. The thing is, Morgana… I've always had you in my life, and it has become something I've stopped appreciating."

"Even when I was kidnapped, or when I was ambushed in the middle of the forest by people who could've easily killed me?"

"But you weren't kidnapped. You told me this yourself. And you escaped from those people. Like I knew you would. You're a strong woman, and you know how to protect yourself. I know this, and I guess that was why I was sure you would be okay. That at the end of the day, you're always going to come back in one piece. Gwen, on the other hand…"

"So what are you saying, you'd rather be with a damsel in distress? I suppose that makes sense, you're a Prince after all. Seriously though, Arthur, I can't believe you just _assumed_ I would be fine, so you weren't worried. I'm not buying this. I also know you're the strongest knight in Camelot, but that doesn't stop _me_ from worrying about you, does it?"

"That is why I'm a fool," he replied calmly. "You've just… grown so much, and you've become this really strong, independent woman… it doesn't feel right for me to be beside you anymore. I just assumed… you don't need me. Or anyone."

"That is ridiculous!" she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. "There's no one who doesn't need anyone, no matter how strong they are!"

"I realize this now," he laid his hands upon her shoulder gently. "And I realize that's why you're running away. Because you feel like no one cares. And I'm here to tell you now, that it isn't true."

"I still don't believe y—"

Morgana didn't get to finish her sentence because another pair of lips had crushed hers then. And she needed a second or two to make sure that it was indeed Arthur, that it was his blonde hair she suddenly found herself clinging to, and that it was his strong arm that supported her when her knees buckled underneath her. When he finally pulled back, slightly breathless, she realized that there was no way that kiss had been fake. Or a dream.

"I should've done that sooner," he whispered, his face still hovering close to hers. "I don't know how I could've missed it before, but… you intending to leave has finally made me realize how much I do not want to lose you." She blinked, still unable to talk. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, her lips could still taste the wine he'd clearly been drinking. "It killed me when I found you last night and you told me you were leaving, Morgana. I didn't fully understand my feelings yet then, which was why I asked you to wait. I spent the whole day wondering what was wrong with me… why I was so torn between letting you find your own happiness and keeping you here." He pulled her upright again, and she struggled to breathe normally. "Now you know why I want you to stay. And if you still want to leave, then… this time I won't stop you."

She raised her hand to his cheek, as if trying to make sure he was real. This still didn't make sense to her, even if his explanation sort of had some logic behind them, but she was still too scared that she'd perhaps conjured this whole scene on her own just because she wanted so much for it to be true. She knew she had magic now; what was impossible?

"So are you still leaving?" He asked again, hope and anxiety mixed in his gaze. And there was also something else. The thing she'd only seen glimpses of before, but now so clear as if the mist had been dispelled from them.

"Kiss me again and I'll tell you," she said at last.

And when he did, she was pretty sure that no amount of magic could make what she was feeling at that moment felt so real.

And she was quite okay with it.


End file.
